Study Date
by livingheaven
Summary: Jem and Will study together. Will gets distracted.


"There is as much variation in vampires as there is in humans, of course, but generally speaking, vampires tend to be pale, sallow, and thin, as though weakened by malnourishment or some sort of wasting disease..."

Will watched Jem from the edge of his chair, leaning over as if he were reading alongside him. Some time ago, his eyes had strayed from the pages and found their way to Jem's face. His grey-black hair was methodically tucked behind his ears, so as not to intrude on his reading experience, and his body was hunched over the book, almost completely blocking Will's view. Will didn't seem to mind.

The library was devoid of people other than Will and Jem. The witchlight torches burned low against the walls, giving them just enough visability to see what they were reading- or rather, Jem was reading.

Having the other boy with him late at night had been an odd but welcome change. He wasn't able to immerse himself in tales of heroes and heroines and lifetimes, but on the up side, he wasn't able to immerse himself in _anything_ but the look in Jem's eyes when he found something in these manuals for killing (or, sometimes, definitely _not_ killing, or, _don't-you-dare-kill-that-or-the-Clave-will-have-your-ass_) that- for some unknown reason- utterly fascinated him. It was as if he was feeling around a treasure cave with only his voice to react with. Ever so often, his eyebrows would raise slightly, or his mouth would part minutely, and it would force Will's attention back to the words, trying desperately to understand the fascination, that he might finally decipher Jem's inner monologue.

"Will?"

Will blinked himself back into reality, meeting Jem's deep grey eyes with his own. "Huh?"

Jem smiled ever so faintly, nodding towarfs the book, which Will now realised had been thrust towards him. "It's your turn to read."

"Oh," Will said, swinging his legs around to the front of his chair. He stared at the open book for a few moments, then he looked back to Jem.

"Can't you read a bit more?" Will asked. "You know I'm not so brilliant at...reading out loud."

Jem chuckled ever so softly and let his eyes flutter shut. He breathed a quiet, "thirty" in amongst his laughter.

"Thirty?" Will asked, firmer than before. "Thirty what?" He tried to catch the gaze of his _parabatai._

Jem straightened his back and opened his eyes, straining to keep himself from laughing again. "Thirty

times you've used the 'reading out loud' excuse in two years."

Will's mouth parted and his eyes hardened. "You've been counting?"

"Yeah," Jem said, his mouth falling into a straight line. "It's a milestone! I don't know many people who are _that_ committed to one excuse. I was thinking of throwing a party for the fiftieth." The lights in his eyes danced.

Will couldn't help but laugh, leaning against the table and resting his elbow on the side. He looked up at Jem. "Oh, definitely," Will said with a smirk. "The Academy Of Excuses will hear about this, my brother!"

The conversation faded into quiet laughter as Will's head came to rest on the table. When the laughter dissolved into silence, he looked up at his _parabatai_.

"It really has been two years, hasn't it?" Will asked.

"Hm?" Jem asked, tilting his head forward slightly.

"_Two years_ since you came to the Institute," Will said with a smirk, as if he were telling one of his great bar stories. He lifted his head off the table. "I must say, I thought a lot more would have _happened_ by now." Will straightened his back and rested his feet on the carpet between their chairs.

"A lot of things _have_ happened, Will." His voice became soft and light all of a sudden. "We've saved far more mundanes than I can count, we've slain more demons than anybody could have suspected of two fifteen year old boys, and most importantly, _we're alive_, despite the many beings who would have otherwise. I would say we've done alright for ourselves."

Will's smirk faded a little. "...I couldn't agree more," he said with a heavier tone. "Of course. We've done so much, just by being Nephilim. I suppose..." He scratched the hair behind his ears. "...this just isn't what I'd have pictured us like, two years ago."

"Like what?" Jem asked, his eyes targetting Will's like laser pointers. For a moment, Will had trouble summoning the courage to speak.

"...Like...like..._this._" _Idiot. That gives no insightful information whatsoever._

The corners of Jem's mouth turned up minutely, although he was quick to hide it. "Then what did you picture us like? Two years ago?"

"Like...like..."

Despite Will's foolish stuttering, Jem's face stayed firm and focused. He, too, was sitting at the edge of his chair now. Their thighs almost touched, their bodies only inches apart. Jem's eyes studied Will's face expectantly.

When Will decided to finally give up on his words, three words sprung through his head. _Actions speak louder_.

And so he leapt off the chair, finding a place for his knees at either side of Jem.

Jem's mouth parted slowly, and he grinned as if the mere action had sent an electric jolt of euphoria through him. Then, all at once, his grin faded and his eyes popped open. He turned to the table and scrambled for the _Codex_, one arm wrapped around Will's waist to keep him from falling off the chair. He wedged the book in between them and began fervently flipping through the pages. Finally, he rested on one and pointed his long, pale index finger at a line near the top of the page.

"'The only bond forbidden to the _parabatai_ is the romantic bond," he said, looking up at Will for a brief instance. The look in his eyes contained an odd mix of anxiety and disappointment. He looked back to the book. "'These bonded pairs must maintain the dignity of their warrior bond and must not allow it to transform into the earthly love we call Eros." His eyes met Will's again. Neither of them spoke.

A euphoric grin began to grow, ever so slowly, on Will's face.

"Fuck the _Codex_," he said wickedly, slapping the book out of Jem's hand. He wrapped his arms around Jem's back and leaned down, meeting Jem's lips with all the intensity of a waterfall.

Jem smiled into the kiss and snaked an arm around the nape of Will's neck, pulling him further down into him. Will lifted one of his knees from the chair and rested it on the side of Jem, their lips parting so slowly that neither realised it was happening. Will's chest pounded with something delicious and _real_ that rippled down his stomach, birthing butterflies, and ended between his legs.

The chair hit the carpet before them, giving them just enough time to realise what was coming.

"Ow," Will said, his thoughts frazzled by the impact. He rubbed the side of his head.

Jem stayed silent, a light, sleepy smile painted across his face. He laughed softly. "You didn't _really_ think that that chair would be enough to support the both of us?" he asked.

"You seemed to be perfectly okay with the idea," Will said. He surprised himself at how defensive he sounded.

Jem laughed again, closing his eyes. "Will," he said, "you really are the best _parabatai_ I could ask for."

"I know," Will said, his eyes softening. He couldn't help a small smile coming over his face. "We'd better get you to bed, Mr. Carstairs."

"That would be a good idea," he said quietly.

Warmth flushed through Will's faced, forcing a wide grin over him. He was thankful that Jem's eyes were closed; he couldn't bare to think how red his cheeks were at this point.

He leaned forward and kissed Jem on the nose. "Come on, then," Will said, dragging himself along the carpet and out of that tangle. He gently pulled his legs over Jem's and stood up. "We've got a long day of happenings ahead of us."


End file.
